Goodbye
by Ms. Slytherin
Summary: Voldemort is sitting in front of a fire when suddenly, a memory confronts him. A memory he can’t seem to get rid of. One that's been haunting him for the past 17 years. Oneshot.


Lord Voldemort was staring into the fire when suddenly, he had the feeling someone was staring at him

Lord Voldemort was staring into the fire when suddenly, he had the feeling someone was staring at him. He turned his chair around to tell whatever deatheater (most likely Wormtail) to go away, and stopped face to face with not a man, but a little six-year-old girl in a white dress. The girl had long, red hair and green eyes. She looked like a ghost, or a projection, but Lord Voldemort knew this little girl. He also knew that she didn't, nor will choose the path of a ghost, as she was still alive, if only for another day or so. But this is what she has looked like the last time he had seen her for who she was. When she knew who she was, and was not ashamed to admit it. Before he wiped her memory of who she was. And what she meant to him, and him to her. Voldemort opened his mouth to speak, but the little girl cut him off, singing a song as she walked in circles around his armchair.

"You're gonna die,

Who'd've guessed.

You're gonna die a painful death.

"It's gonna be Harry,

That you kill.

But it's gonna end vice-versa,

Against your will."

The little girl sang this song two more times before stopping before Voldemort's chair. Hands clasped behind her back, the girl's green eyes looked up at Voldemort's, bright, and accusing.

"You're gonna die, and it's all your fault. You picked the stronger of the two in the prophecy. Longbottom would have been so much easier to get rid of. Now, you're gonna die."

Voldemort, whose face had paled considerably during the song, now paled even more at this piece of information

"What do you mean?" Voldemort asked, "How can you be here, Lily?"

"I'm not _really _here. I'm just you memory. The one you can't seem to get rid of. You loved me. Admit it. The great Lord Voldemort, who does not believe in love, only power, loved someone. But you had to get rid of me. You loved that I didn't have an evil, sarcastic, and bad outlook on everything, like Evelynne. So you had to get rid of me. You were supposed to kill me. And that is why you are going to die. If you had killed me, then James and I wouldn't have had Harry, and then there would have only been Longbottom to get rid of. Neville was a little boy, born at the end of July to a family that has thrice denied your invitation. But you made your choice. You didn't wait for them to grow up, like Evelynne told you to. Lily and James will not remain loyal. Even with the spell you put on them. You always _did_ underestimate the power of love."

Lord Voldemort thought back on the spell he had spent so many hours creating. The spell, Lodemae Maracus was one of Lord Voldemort's prized spells. If casted properly, the spell took the soul of the victim, giving it to the person who casted the spell. The side affect was, once returned to their body, the victims' perspective of right and wrong were mixed around, making them think that what they thought was good, is now bad, and what they thought was bad, is now good. Lord Voldemort was saving them, keeping them alive for the time he knew would soon come. The last battle.

Lord Voldemort looked back at the six-year-old Lily who smiled, and turned to walk away. When Voldemort saw this, he stood up.

"Lily!" He cried, throwing his arm out towards her, "Don't leave me! Please! I love you!"

Lily slowly turned around, a sad smile on her face

"You don't love me. You can't. You've forgotten how. You've encased your heart in a block of ice that no one can break. But I love you. I always have and I always will. I love you still, even at the age of twenty. The age I've been for the past seventeen years. I just don't like what you've done. You tried to kill my only son. I don't care whether he's the heir of Gryffindor or not. He's your grandson. And you tried to kill him, and you have ever since he was a baby. Now, he will kill you, and there's nothing I can do about it because of the spell you placed on me.

As Lord Voldemort watch helplessly as the only person he had ever loved faded before his very eyes, he heard her last words to him. This time, they sounded as if they were from far away, not right in front of him.

"Good-bye, Daddy. I love you."


End file.
